Trust
by Werewolf of Fire
Summary: Mikoto's struggling. Between attempting to work out his feelings between Yuujiro and Megumi and the gods' need to make his life difficult, he's just about ready to pull his own hair out. [mentions of a boyxboy relationship and other odd things]


**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. In other words, all the original characters and the original series plot belong to Mikiyo Tsuda, and I make no money off this.

_Warning: _OOCness (I tried!), yaoi (sorta), spoilers for a _The Day of Revolution_ (again: sorta, I just sort of researched it quickly, I don't know exact details so things could and are most likely _wrong_). All spelling/grammatical errors are my own. If you spot some mention them and I will fix them.

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**Trust  
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The air was searing, like a hot, hot towel pressed against his cheeks and chest. It was stifling and the air was still despite his hands rapid fanning of his pink splashed face. Outside his window, the sun beamed down at them, enjoying his (and most likely everyone else's) torment as Mikoto leant back in his desk's chair and glared at it stubbornly. He could hear his sister muttering words of annoyance and vengeance from her room next door as she also suffered. He sighed and leant back further, foot poised against the wall to hold him suspended on two black, metal legs.

It wasn't a normal summer day in the Yukata household; Mikoto had found that the Yukata family's air conditioner was as sadistic as his sister, Makoto, was; it had decided to break down that morning with a splutter (that Mikoto could have sworn sounded like a pleased, wet chuckle) and a small _boom._ And on the day he'd decided to stay home and complete his school work too. Mikoto glared at the white ceiling above him because if he'd wanted to suffer he wanted to do it in someone else's presence!

All too readily (as though waiting for such a thought to imbed itself in his head) the image of a pretty, smiling girl with brown hair and captivating green eyes phased in front of his ruby gaze and he frowned. She was smiling and laughing and Mikoto felt his stomach quiver pleasantly before it was overfilled with a heart clenching guilt. There was little chance that Mikoto was going to be spending time with Megumi for a while, no matter what the weather was. No matter how pretty she looked in a modest dress or a coat with a scarf wrapped around her pretty neck. He couldn't face her, not until he was through with the current phase of insanity he was going through; it wouldn't be fair.

He scowled at his school work; He didn't want to burden Megumi with his guilt ridden and moody self. Because despite all of his whining and whinging and his arguing and his stubborn claim at his own masculinity and his sexual standing as a _straight man_, Mikoto had developed a small, mostly insignificant crush on one of his friends. The red head's cheeks flushed pink as the picture of his friend was projected within his mind, with him wearing the most dazzling of smiles and the cutest of frilly outfits. Damn it, there really wasn't anything captivating about Yuujirou Shihoundani! Except for his legs when they were encased in long white stockings and his shoulder blades as they peeked out of the dress he'd been chosen to wear that day and his lovely, slender, elegant seeming hands…

Mikoto whined to aloud and flung himself forward, barely managing to stop himself before his forehead met his oak desk, as his hands flew to cover his pink wearing head. It wasn't fair! He'd done nothing to anger whatever deity was causing his suffering and confusion! Shihoundani had done this on purpose! He'd bribed the heavenly beings in the sky to inject such feelings into him! All and everything to torment him! All and everything! Mikoto imbedded his own soft hands into his own silken locks, and scrubbed at his scalp. Surely there was something wrong with him. Surely he'd caught some rare disease. There was no way he'd ever look at Shihoundani like he did his perfect Megumi!

Idly, he recalled an afternoon much like the one he was suffering through when he and Megumi had sat down to talk and talk and talk. Megumi thought it was best to be honest to each other as they were nearing their year anniversary and she wanted to surprise him. So they'd started with what each of them liked, as though they were on their first date and getting to know each other again. Megumi had been sweet and patient and _perfect_, whilst he'd stuttered through his favourite colours, food, places, subjects in school and his hobbies. That was when his being a princess had popped up much to his own chagrin.

Megumi had smiled almost sadly when he'd brought it up accidentally. Then she'd told him about her own struggles with her identity, about her dress and skirt wearing battles. Amazingly, he found himself admiring her more when she'd finished telling him about how she had been a he and that she hadn't known. Of course he'd been shocked into silence; no boyfriend wouldn't be if they were told that their girlfriend was a boy until some freak fainting spell. Megumi had joked that it was almost like what he was going through except she was now a girl permanently. Her tone hinted at her worries for being turned away.

Mikoto sighed pleasantly as a tingly happiness settled itself in his slender chest as he set his head against his folded arms. It had been the first time he'd kissed Megumi that day. Soft lips to even softer ones. Usually it was Megumi that leant over to peck his cheek or to press her lips like a ghostly lover checking on their living partner to his own. Surely Shihoundani and Kouno would laugh if he ever repeated the gushy words he'd spilled to her that day, but it didn't matter. When Megumi smiled like she had, even Yuujiro's teasing seemed worth it. She was so sweet, so caring and patient. Mikoto's heart fluttered again.

But such thoughts didn't help ease the guilt weighing down his entire body, making him feel as though his blood had decided it was sick of being a source of life and thought it would have more fun as lead. He glared at his science text book, his wide red eyes narrowing in what he would call a dangerous, threatening way, but he'd only ever been told made him look _cute. _

Yuujiro Shihoudani wasn't pleasant, he wasn't sweet or caring. Rather, he was critical, sadistic, cruel and he was absolutely terrible to him! Why did Mikoto's heart quiver like it did whenever he caught sight of Megumi in a crowd? Why did his legs feel like jelly whenever Yuujiro smiled 'like a queen'? It made no sense! He liked girls! Or he'd thought he did…

Had Mikoto been attracted to boys all along and subconsciously been drawn to Megumi who had started out as a boy? Was he starting to fall out of love with Megumi only to fall in love with Shihoudani? But Megumi was so much more special that that jerk! It was like Shihoundani held a toothpick with a midget flame flickering on one of it's ends whilst Megumi held a flaming torch whenever Mikoto compared them.

As though in a daze, Mikoto found himself holding a pen and doodling on a piece of scrap paper. He ignored his hand's actions. Surely he couldn't be in love with Shihoundani? Never, not yet. He'd prefer Sakamoto to the Princess of the West! Why? What had Megumi done? Why was he suddenly paying more attention to Yuujirou!?

Mikoto suddenly threw his hands into the air before he gripped onto his own hair and scrubbed madly; he was spending too much time around them! The princess costumes forced upon him were starting to seep feminine feelings into his most masculine brain!

Suddenly a thought dawned on him, as though he were watching it with the most special of people on the most special of days in the most special of places, except it caused him to fill with a cold numbness instead of a warm pleasantness. Perhaps he'd fallen for Megumi because she'd been the first girl to look at him and think of him as something other than _cute._ It seemed possible; when Mikoto actually thought about it, perhaps it wasn't surprising that he'd ended up with Megumi. Most girls looked at him and awed and squealed and told him how absolutely adorable he looked with his pouted lips and large, exotically coloured eyes. But if Megumi had been a boy, didn't that mean that she'd liked girls at some stage? Did she like him because he was _cute _(damn it, Mikoto hated that word) and because as - he was so often told - he looked like a princess? Had Mikoto always liked boys and his subconscious _had_ felt that she had been a he at some stage and caused him to like her?

As if in a daze, Mikoto set his hands on his desk calmly and sat up straight, as though he were a puppet being poised for a performance, his strings someone else's to command. Was everything between Megumi and him caused by their complex gender issues?

There were so many questions and so few answers, Mikoto suddenly felt as though his head were ready to explode. And none of them made him feel any better than he was feeling about the sudden emotions welling in him because of the Western Princess. Actually, if anything, he was feeling slightly more confused. Because if he liked boys and Megumi also still subconsciously liked girls (even a teeny bit), wouldn't that mean that Shihoundani and Kouno could steal his lovely Megumi from him?

The picture of his friends set upon his desk nearly caught alight with the flames that danced in his glare. He was never taking Megumi back to that school. Never again. Never. But he was going back and that meant that he'd have to face his feelings for Shihoundani the jack arse. Perhaps it was just a tiny crush that would fade away with time? Perhaps he ought to ask Makoto for advice?

Mikoto snorted and barely managed to stop himself from banging his head against the desk for such a thought. Makoto was worse than Shihoundani! How could he even think of it?!

"Mikoto!" The boy nearly fell backwards off his chair with the sudden yell through his door.

"What?" He responded rudely, "I'm busy!"

He heard his sister snort and mutter some more, "It's Megumi, she wants to talk to you!"

As though lightning rushing for the ground, Mikoto was at the door with his right hand outstretched and waiting for the silver and grey phone poised so delicately in Makoto's slender right hand. Perhaps they ran in the family…

"Why should I give you the phone, Mikoto?" His sister asked with a frown and a raised brow, "You're busy, remember?"

"Can you just give me the phone?" He was confused, guilty and terribly annoyed at himself. Mikoto wasn't in the mood to deal with his sister's teasing, "Please?" He attempted when she simply stared down at him as though he were a kicked dog awaiting medical treatment.

Makoto put the phone to her ear, "Mikoto seems to be in a bad mood, Megumi. Do you still want to talk to him? He's being awfully rude." Mikoto sighed helplessly; was he to be tormented for the rest of his life? "Would you? Thank you! You'll let me know of all the details later? Oh good, have fun!" Suddenly the phone was shoved under his nose and Mikoto almost fell backwards, managing to clumsily take the phone from his sister. She smiled pleasantly – as though she was a spider watching some stupid butterfly fluttering far too close to her web, just waiting for the right breeze to push him into the sticky strings – and almost skipped down the hallway outside his room.

Idly, whilst closing the door, Mikoto put the phone to one of his smooth ears, "Hello?"

"Mikoto?"

He felt his elation grow with the sound of her voice, "Megumi! Is everything alright?"

She seemed put off, "Yes. I usually call at this time. Did you forget?" Her tone was like that of a worried angel!

Jerkily, Mikoto's exotic eyes flew to the small digital clock on the desk beside his meticulously made bed. It read in big, red, block numbers: 4:01pm. Oh. He'd spent one and a half hours thinking? "I'm sorry, I lost track of time." He said sincerely.

"That's alright! It's admirable that you work so hard." Her giggles were like bells to Mikoto's ears and he felt his heart almost burst with joy because he was the one that caused them. She continued after another giggle, her tone turning solemn and her voice became somewhat quieter, "Mikoto, are you alright? You seemed hesitant and worried this morning."

The red head clutched the phone in both hands and to his ear, "There's nothing wrong at all! I was just – uh – thinking about – ah - stuff." He'd never been eloquent with words or much else really.

"This – this isn't because of what I told you, is it? I understand if you're having second thoughts, I mean, I wouldn't know what to think if you'd told me you had been a girl-"

"No!" Mikoto interjected loudly. He blushed to himself, embarrassed by his outburst and angry at himself for causing his girlfriend to fret over him. He felt a different type of guilt encircle his heart, "I – I – er…"

"Mikoto…"

She sounded like a wounded doe. Mikoto could imagine how she must look, eyes glistening as though she were about to shed tears and her lips softened and pouted though she wouldn't realise until someone – usually him – began to stare. He sighed, and blushed, "I – er – well, you remember Shihoundani? The blonde man in the dark coloured dress at my school's festival?" She hummed, showing that she dif. He hesitated; God… Did boyfriends usually do this? Did they usually confess to liking other people, let alone other boys? He swallowed the lump that had found its way inside his throat, "Well – I kind of – er-"

"You like him?" Megumi suddenly said.

Mikoto's heart froze, "I – I – You know that I'll always love Megumi, right? You're sweet! Perfect! But – Ah…" Why'd she have to do that? Why did she have the ability to read his thoughts?

Surprisingly, Mikoto heard Megumi giggle, "That's understandable. I don't expect you to feel attracted to only me, Mikoto. I was a boy too at one stage, I know that your eyes will wander. As long as they are the only things to wander…" She added pleasantly though the underlying threat crept about like a stalking snake.

He swallowed thickly again, "Ah, oh, really?"

"Yes. I'm just happy you told me so! You must trust me to _want _to tell me something like that and that makes me happy." He could _hear_ her smile.

"R-Really?" Mikoto felt as though he'd just been allowed to breathe for the first time in days. Megumi really was perfect! And his and his alone! He felt somewhat proud of himself and beamed at the wall (who only sat there as though he wasn't smiling like the most confident of queens; but he could ignore it and its lack of reaction; Megumi had started speaking again).

"Mikoto, don't be scared to tell me things." Her tone was slightly admonishing, but Mikoto flushed pleasantly anyway, "Your trust means a lot to me. That's why I told you that I found that Sakamoto-person you talked briefly too adorable." Again she giggled as Mikoto blanched and stuttered.

He hadn't thought she'd meant like that! Damn it. He definitely wasn't going to let her visit him at school again!

"Mikoto, you're growling. Is everything alright?"

Mikoto jumped out of his jealousy instantly with a laugh and a twinkling smile, "Oh – I'm fine, Megumi! I'm happy that you trust me too!"

They were quiet for a few moments. As Mikoto let everything sink in. Megumi wasn't angry with his most sinful thoughts about Shihoundani, rather, it seemed as though the jerk had just strengthened their relationship. It was surprising. So much so he almost couldn't soak it up. Perhaps he ought to thank him for it the next time he saw him? Yuujirou's reaction would be worth the humiliation of having to thank him for anything.

Why had he been worried again? His feelings for Megumi were obviously as strong as they'd ever been; his heart was being used as a drum by his ribs as it thumped hard in his thin chest. His stomach still felt as though it had been filled with fizzy drink, must like it had when he'd first met her. He'd just taken to appreciating Shihoundani's assets. He felt as though he were going to collapse with relief.

"Mikoto?"

"Yes?" He fell onto his bed, a large smile plastered to his face at the sound of Megumi's sweet, feminine voice.

"One of my friends at school is having a party, a dress up one. Um, would you like to go with me? I have the perfect outfit for you." She now seemed hesitant, as though they'd swapped roles.

Mikoto's eyebrows drew themselves together, in the centre of his forehead as he spoke confidently, "I'll definitely come. When is it? And what's the costume?"

"Really?" She seemed just as happy as he had a few moments ago, and Mikoto felt his chest swell with pride; he'd caused Megumi to be happy, he'd caused her to smile (because, by her pleased tone, she was definitely grinning)! "Well, it's this Saturday from six o'clock to ten, and well, I thought we could have matching outfits. So we could look like a couple, you know? I ran around and I managed to find the costumes of a Lord and his lady!"

Mikoto's heart jumped and pumped as though he were running a marathon at full spirnt, "Really?" He'd actually get to see Megumi in a costume like the ones he was forced to wear? Had the Lords and Ladies in the sky decided to let him off? The day seemed to have done a 180 degree turn.

"Yes! I've already tried on the cape and suit, so all you need to do is come over and try on the dress-"

"Dress?" Mikoto squeaked, his pink eyes turning into pinpricks as they widened and his eyebrows disappeared into his hair, "You want me to wear a dress?"

"Yes! I thought you looked very," She paused as though considering what the best adjective would be in order to describe him. Mikoto almost dreaded its announcement, "Beautiful. Much better than I do in dresses. And you know how I hate them…"

He couldn't help but blush a red almost as bright as his hair, "But – But Megumi I can't wear a dress! You would look much, _much_ prettier in it!"

"Come now, we can call it the 'Stepping Stone of Trust' within our relationship! I-If you want, in return, on our next date and maybe the one after it, I'll wear a skirt-"

"I'll do it!" Anything if they didn't have to fight and he got to see Megumi in a skirt not once but twice consecutively! Anything as long as Megumi would smile. He'd just have to make sure Makoto didn't see him in it that was all.

Megumi giggled and Mikoto couldn't help the chuckle that burst from his thin throat in return. So perhaps it wasn't such a bad day; the heat wasn't getting to him any more (Megumi always did have a knack of making him forget the most unforgettable things), Shihoundani had left his mind (and good riddance too! Mikoto had enough of him at school without the jerk haunting his thoughts during their breaks as well) and his worries over the upcoming dress up party weren't all that important (though he had a feeling he'd be hyperventilating sometime the day before it).

"Mikoto?" Megumi said, interrupting their conversation about their next dates and where they'd be held.

"Yes, Megumi?"

Her smile was like hoot of a leaving cruise ship's horn, "I really like you."

Mikoto flushed, "I really like you too, Megumi!"

Yes, perhaps that day wasn't all that bad. As long as that wasn't Makoto's pink eyes peeking under his door and her muttered cursing flying under it as her glasses slipped down her nose and she listened to their conversation. Mikoto blushed scarlet. The gods couldn't leave him be could they?

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**Woffy: **Was named: Unusual Relationships with Gods and Girlfriends until I decided that I didn't like it. XD Hm… It didn't turn out too bad. Not too bad at all. At least it isn't complete and utter bull. Anyway… And, I know! I did the opposite to what I've been saying I wanted (_xXxKeYbLaDeMaStErxXx _knows what I'm talking about). I actually got them together by attempting to tear them apart. _–sweatdrop-_

Reviews would be appreciated. Don't hesitate to tell me you hate it as long as you tell me why. Just like if you like it. The _why _is what matters most to me.

Hope you enjoyed this (even a tiny bit)!


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